


4/20 Jeb Bush

by poorbasil



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c., election 2016, jeb bush - Fandom
Genre: 4/20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6611821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poorbasil/pseuds/poorbasil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The candidate who was blazed raw by his competitors seeks solace in an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	4/20 Jeb Bush

The air hung still over the Floridan estate of Jeb Bush, a slight breeze occasionally ruffling the nearby trees. A subtle movement. A shake of the branches. Palm leaves swaying gracefully, their stalks seemingly illuminated by the twilight sky.

Jeb saw it all.

Every subtlety of nature, the ones that usually go unnoticed in day to day life.

But not by Jeb. Jeb watched and listened and observed, his eyes intent on categorizing the effects of each little twist of wind; yet his mind was far from focused.

Chaos brought on by boredom, the emotion racking through his brain and ravaging his other senses. There was no calm anymore. No, not for Jeb.

While his wife slept soundly in the other room, Jeb stayed awake, sitting in a white plastic lawn chair he couldn't remember ever purchasing. It didn't matter. He wasn't looking for support. Those days had past.

The ex-GOP candidate sighed longingly, not that there was anyone to hear it. There was never anyone around to hear Jeb anymore. Maybe there never truly was.

He looked out at the trees, the firm structures so grounded in the earth, a solid fixture, uncompromising, unwavering, a contrast to himself. Jeb was neither firm nor solid, not where it couldn't anyways.

Weak Jeb. Sad Jeb.

Pathetic.

He promised not to let it get to him but at heart he was a sensitive man. He promised America this and he'd let them all down. He glanced towards his pocket, swallowing guiltily at what he was about to do next.

When he exposed the truth all those months ago on that debate stage, he had done so with the intention of never performing _that_ act again. It was immature and not to mention illegal.

He stuck his hand into his pocket, fingering the cylindrical object that lay innocently inside.

No one had to know.

He sighed again, this time in resignation as he pulled out the blunt that'd been given to him back in February. It'd been wrapped up neatly in a small basic brown box sitting on his desk waiting for him. It had no return address but the letter inside was enough.

_Jeb,_

_We all need to destress sometimes,_

_Your friend,_

_Marco Rubio_

He thought it was a cruel joke at first and he had locked the box away in his closet. But times have changed. Jeb had changed.

He pulled out the blunt and with his other hand, extracted the lighter from his pocket.

"4/20 blaze it," he said to the trees as he lit up. The trees remained silent, just like the audience in his rally had.

The night remained still as Jeb Bush sat alone and got turnt with nothing but the bliss of smoking marijuana to keep him company. 


End file.
